The VOICE
by Sparkly Palm Tree
Summary: Damian is alone (until Dick of course). Damian is insane (until Dick of course). Damian is alone (after Dick of course). Damian is insane (after Dick of course). This story is really wacko. Beware.


**Ok, this story is terrible. I wrote it at 4 in the morning. But I love fluff, and hopefully it's terribleness will inspire others to not be like me. But it's summer vacation so. . .Antithesisis a legit villain from Teen Titans Year One, and I thought he fit well. I probably shouldn't even be posting this but ce'st la vie.**

Damian had never felt so alone.

He had practically been raised in solitude, with the exception of tutors, servants, and of course his mother and grandfather. He was accustomed to it. Then, he'd been shipped to Gotham, where D-Grayson had always tried to do something with him, "brotherly bonding time" he'd said. Then he'd met Colin, Katana and started branching out. But then Dic- that is to say, Grayson left for stupid New York to become stupid Nightwing ALONE, and he'd missed the stupid twenty one year old more than he should have. He'd certainly felt quite lonely then, but at least the former Batman had visited. And of course, there was Father. Father who didn't understand him or even, Damian was sure, remotely LIKE him. Father, who made Damian feel small in a way not even Ra's al Ghul had managed to do. Then Damian had died, putting a halt on any and all relationships. Then, he had been revived, but Grayson had managed to die and nobody could (would really) revive him.

But as Antithesis taunted him, the raging solitude he felt was overwhelming, and he could find no sufficient comparison to what the raw internal agony felt like.

"Little Robin," Antithesis had hissed, chuckling darkly. "Where is your family now? Oh, yes, you never even had one! They never cared! Even if they did, they're too pathetic to save you."

Then visions came to life, like watching the many monitors of the Batcomputer at once.

"Your father?" Antithesis said derisively. "He never wanted you. He never loved you. He was forced to take care of you." He watched his father hurl his sketches into flames, watched his work shatter to ashes. Damian watched him push him andany attempts at talking or bonding away.

At that same time, he saw Talia al Ghul. "Her?" Antithesis sneered. "You were a result of her lust and her father's scheme. You were a tool, a play for power. Even then you were replaced. By your brother."

"He wasn't my brother!" Damian exclaimed, even as he dropped to his knees, watching his clone (because that was all he was) kill him.

"Oh, yes. Your 'real' brothers. Look at them," Damian swayed as the scenes unfolded in his head. Todd-Jason was fighting, but losing. A shot rang out, and instead of seeing more of the fight, it crumpled into everything cruel the Red Hood had ever said to him. There was no shortage.

"This one is among my favorites," the ant-man chuckled darkly. Drake shouting at him. Beating him in the game for their mentor's affections. Saying cruel things behind his back. Then he watched Tim crumple to the ground, writhing in pain and then-

stopping.

"But this! The only person who ever wanted you thinks you're dead because of those who don't want you! Your Father's lies! This is proof!" Antithesis cheered, gesturing wildly before kneeling down next to Damian, cupping his chin. "Look Little Robin."

Damian jerked his head away, spitting at the feet of the villain, even as he slumped forward from exhaustion. Pathetic.

And then he saw it. Dick. Grayson. Alive.

He saw his revival, he watched his eldest (but only, because Antithesis was right and the others didn't care, but Grayson would always care, right?) brother join the organization of Spyral on his father's order. He watched Grayson use guns, form alliances. Form a family. He watched Grayson get a new partner. Did he even need them anymore? No. Dick had never needed them- never needed him.

And Father had never even told Damian that Dick was alive. Had he meant so little to all of them?

"You see, Little Bird, they never wanted you-"

"Stop!" Damian sobbed, voice raw and painful. He heard his voice crack. "Stop it! Just leave me alone! I didn't ask for this! I didn't-I didn't- just leave me alone!"

When he opened his eyes, he saw nothing. Everything was white and blank and nothing was everywhere. It was empty, he was alone. He collapsed, bindings gnawing at his raw, raw flesh. Vulnerable. Pathetic. Inadequate. A miserable failure.

"You asked for this Little Robin. You wanted to be alone. Now you are. You belong here."

He curled in on himself, meta powers meaning nothing. He couldn't control them. Grayson probably still thought he was dead. He had failed his Batman, if Damian hadn't gotten killed, then neither would have Grayson, then Dick would still be with them. And he wouldn't be a failure. Everything hurt. His head, his pride, his broken bones, he had a twisting feeling in his stomach. He was homesick, but he didn't want to go home, he didn't even have one. He wanted Dick, he wanted to be wanted. He closed his eyes, intent on embracing the nothingness eating at his senses. Pitiful. Vulnerable.

"Indeed you are," Talia's voice broke through his curled arms. He clutched his head, covering his ears, but the voices were stil clear and loud.

"Damian, Go," Father commanded, voice as stoic as ever.

Todd spoke next. "Come on, brat. This can't be what you want." Then Drake; "Do something then! Break out! Or not. I'm sure you'd love to spend in eternity in an empty transdimemsional plane."

Damian squeezed his eyes tighter. He held onto his ears but they kept getting

louDER.

The words bounced around the alcoves of his head, spinning and twirling and swishing like the gowns at the idiotic galas he had been forced to attend, but would never watch or hear or talk about or anything ever again.

"Come on Little D. You get to decide where you belong, don't let anyone choose for you. If you really want this, you can stay. I won't force you to leave. But I know they're all waiting for you."

He stiffened-Dick, but it couldn't be. "You aren't real," he murmured. "You can't be here, I'm all alone." But he wanted him to be. He wanted his older brother back, not the ones who taunted him and made fun of him but the one who he went to for nightmares and ice cream and guidance and smiles and affection that he shouldn't-wouldn't-couldn't get anywhere else.

He felt a feather touch across his cheek. "You don't have to be," the VOICE said gently. The VOICE because this wasn't his brother because his brother wasn't here and was a spy and faraway and thought he was dead so this had to be a trick. "Do you want to be, Dami?"

Tears escaped his clenched eyelids somehow, and he wished he could be like them and break free from the impenetrable. He choked a cry. "No."

"Look at me, Dami. You're not alone, baby brother. You've never been, and you never will be. Just open up your eyes," The VOICE said, and the voice was so sincere and full of compassion and so, so Grayson that Damian complied and his eyes - bloodshot and scared - took in the sight before him.

No longer was everything filled with nothing. Dick was kneeling before him. He was wearing his favorite sweater, dark blue and too big for him, and Damian knew it well because it was the one that Damian had stolen after his revival because it was so purely Grayson when everything else in that damn Manor wasn't.

Dick smiled at him, sweetly, kindly and Damian's heart ached even more than when he was curled in the fetus position but for a different reason.

Damian lunged at his brother, and Dick had expected it-he must have because he caught Damian and put him in his lap and held him. He wrapped his arms around the young man's neck, squeezing so hard with his meta abilities that he knew it bruised but he didn't give a damn.

Grayson kissed the top of his head and murmured words of comfort into his ear even as Damian was sure he was suffocating him.

"Good boy, Damian,"

"You're perfect,"

"You're so sweet,"

"Everyone loves you so much, Dami, especially me."

He never heard those words from anyone else. Damian shook his head into Dick's shoulder, feeling hot tears sinking into the familiar surface of the sweater (and how many times had he gone to sleep this way?). None of those were true. "No, no, you're the only one -the o-only one. A-and I don't - I don't e-even deserve it!"

His brother nuzzled the top of his head, and Damian leaned as far as he could into the touch because the last time he'd been shown affection was before his death and that was months and months and months past. "Yes, you so Damian. You deserve so much, and I know Tim and Jason and Steph and Cass and Babs and even your dad love you very much, even if it doesn't seem like it sometimes."

"I'm a failure, I'm a mistake, I'm a bastard child, I'm a killer, I'm a-"

Dick shushed him, resting his chin on his head. "You're none of those things. You're smart and brave and good and kind and handsome and most of all, you're a Wayne."

"And they're always going to be there for you, even when I can't. Because they're your family." Damian had lifted his head up so that they were nose to nose, but he threw his arms back around " Grayson's narrow shoulders.

"You are my family," he declared. "You are my family." He repeated.

His older brother/mentor/father figure/predecessor took him by the shoulders and smiled sadly and no! Damian knew what came next and Dick was leaving and he wouldn't visit this time.

"You decide where you belong, Dami. Don't let anyone decide for you."

"No!" Damian screeched, but Dick was gone and so were the other swirling voices from his head and this time he didn't even have the sweater and all he had was -. "I belong with you!" He shouted into the nothingness that was his everything.

He felt like a child having a petty tantrum, but his rage far outweighed the detest he held for the action. He slammed his fists into the blankness again and again and again and AGAIN! until he heard a shattering sound and air whistling past him, and saw the white plane break and the ground hurtling towards him and then, AGAIN, nothing, but this nothingness was dark and unknowing.


End file.
